


Dirty Talk

by redwinehouse (orphan_account)



Series: Cranial Capacity INDEFINITE HIATUS, BUT A FULL STORY LINE WAS COMPLETED [33]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comedy, Crime, F/M, Humor, Murder Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 17:31:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12137547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/redwinehouse
Summary: As Sherlock tries to solve the case of the murdered geologist, you and John find the perfect moment to tease the detective until he is at his wit's end. During your shenanigans, you learn that Sherlock's ignorance may reign farther than just his misunderstanding of the earth's orbit. Unfortunately, your life is not always fun and games and the day quickly takes a turn for the worst with only  a phone call.





	Dirty Talk

  


[](http://www.dazzlejunction.com/generators/image-generator.php)

  


”Have you ever noticed that sitting at home is suddenly a hundred times more enjoyable when you’re supposed to be working?” you asked John, sinking into Sherlock’s chair. 

The doctor turned to Sherlock, who had retreated to the kitchen. “Sister, you don’t know the half of it.” 

Your laugh came out in a short bark. “No, I know you love it.” 

John held his hand out, his palm flat. He flicked his wrist back and forth. “Eh.” 

”We aren’t home doing nothing. Have you hit your head since this morning?” Sherlock quipped, coming into the living room and examining his crime wall. “If you exercised your feeble little mind, you would realize that we have a lot of work to do.” 

”Sherlock!” Sherlock looked at you and rolled his eyes. “It’s feeble compared to mine. Everyone’s is.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “And what do you think about my mind?” 

Sherlock immediately stiffened. “You…are incredibly bright.” 

Your mouth dropped. “You don’t think I’m smart!” 

Sherlock cocked his head. “What? No. Coming from me that is a massive compliment. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t think you were smart.” he turned back to the wall. “I’m just smarter.” 

”Why do you love him?” John asked, resting his chin in his hand. 

”Sister, you don’t know the half of it.” 

Both you and John leaned forward in snickers as Sherlock looked on, completely perplexed. 

”I don’t understand. Neither of you are sisters. What is so amusing?” 

John blew a raspberry as you covered your mouth, your chest hurting from silent laughter. 

Sherlock huffed and straightened his coat, trying very hard to look like he didn’t care. “You two continue with your juvenile antics.” he continued to grumble as he turned his back to you. “Your immaturity astounds me.” 

”Sister, you don’t know the half of it,” John managed to peep out between laughs. By now, you had melted onto the floor, hunched over and pounding on the carpet with your fist. 

”I said _enough!_ ” Sherlock grabbed his gun and shot a bullet within an inch of John’s face, who lurched backwards. 

”Where do you get off!?” John shouted, leaping up and wrenching the gun from Sherlock’s hand. 

Sherlock gave him a smug smirk. “From the side of logic and critical thinking.” 

John looked at you and threw his hands up, shaking his head. 

Sherlock turned back to his wall. His hand hovered over a picture of David. “Johnson was found this morning at 6:00AM outside of his office by a student on his way to class. We know that he teaches a 7:00AM class. Why he felt the need to get there an hour early to teach students about rocks is beyond me.” 

”Sherlock, rocks, minerals, and soil are some of the most important sections in science. I’m surprised you don’t appreciate them,” you said, still trying to catch your breath. 

”They can be useful, but it doesn’t mean they’re important or have any value, let alone deserve a whole _class_ about them.” He glanced over his shoulder, looking appalled. 

”Sherlock, you _live_ on a rock, remember?” 

Sherlock looked at John silently for a few seconds before turning back to the wall. 

John looked at you, his mouth had dropped into a shocked, amused grin. “Sherlock,” he began slowly, “do you know what the earth is made of?” 

You placed a hand over your mouth to quiet snicker. 

Not knowing the earth went around the sun? Very ignorant, stupid, and quite funny. But the sun _was_ in the sky and for someone who blatantly refused to accumulate knowledge would understandably have a hard time grasping the concept on his or her own. 

But not knowing what the earth was made of? 

”The police were contacted –“ 

”No, no, no!” John interrupted. “We are not saying another word until you tell us whether you knew what the earth was made of.” 

”-exactly ten minutes after he was found –“ 

”Do you know what the earth is made of?” John pressed. 

You saw Sherlock clench and un-clench his left fist, a tell you learned that showed he was embarrassed. 

”He doesn’t know,” you affirmed, putting a hand over your heart as you began to laugh again. 

”It doesn’t _matter_ ,” Sherlock finally shot back. 

”Sherlock, you _literally_ walk on it every damn day! Just look down!” John said. “The earth kind of matters!” 

”You live on it, love. That makes it a little important,” you added, trying to be a little nicer, although it was a little difficult because you were laughing at him. 

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, finally facing you two. “I know I walk _on_ dirt and rock. Why would I waste my time to see if there was anything underneath?” He mussed his hair aggressively, clearly irritated. 

John looked at you as he spoke, “Sherlock…do you even know what the hell the earth looks like?” 

Sherlock scoffed. “Of course I know. It’s round. Do you think I’m an idiot?” 

”Right,” John continued slowly, “but what do you think is underneath?” 

At that, Sherlock went quiet. 

Tears began to well in your eyes because you were laughing so hard. Undignified croaks would come out of your mouth as you smacked the arm rest. You couldn’t think of the last time you had laughed like this. Sherlock Holmes was the smartest man you met, but he was almost the most stupid. 

John was looking at you in amazement. “He thinks the earth is hollow,” he said quietly. He seemed too amazed to laugh. However, one look at Sherlock made him sputter, which quickly evolved into a howl. He buried his face in his hands as the laughs racked through his body. 

Sherlock’s face was flushed. “Do either of you even care that a man was killed?” He pointed the David’s picture. 

”You don’t even care. You just want to have fun,” you managed between laughs. 

Sherlock grunted and turned his back to you. “I’m not feeding into your immature games.” 

”Sister, you don’t know the half of it,” John said. 

Sherlock spun around, “SHUT UP!” he yelled, grabbing his hair. 

You didn’t. 

~*~ 

After an hour of poking Sherlock’s buttons, you finally let him work. The shenanigans had finally ended when he chased John around the flat with the fire poker. Being tall and gangly, Sherlock had an incredibly hard time chasing John around such an obstacle course. Since he was short, John was much steadier and could fit through smaller spaces and take tighter turns. There was surely going to be a small bruise on Sherlock’s temple later on. He had slipped and whacked into the corner of the kitchen wall. 

”We arrived at 6:20AM.” Sherlock smacked the fire poker against a picture of a young man with short brown hair and green eyes. “Larry Orwell, in addition to having a stupid name, was also stupid and took ten minutes to contact the police, giving him a full twenty minutes with the body.” Sherlock circled the picture of the body with the poker. “This is immediately suspicious and we will bring him in for questioning.” 

”He seemed pretty riled up when we got there,” John said. “He is either very upset and innocent or terrified and guilty.” 

You shook your head. “I hope not. The most disturbing murders are the ones that are committed by children.” 

Sherlock shook his head. “He is 27 years old. Don’t let the young face fool you. He didn’t do well in school. He decided to go back and get his diploma and studied hard. He was accepted this past fall.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Proof that education means absolutely nothing.” 

”Says the man who thought the earth was hollow,” John whispered quietly so that Sherlock didn’t hear. He gave you a knowing smile and you chuckled. 

Sherlock moved his poker and tapped it on a picture of David’s arm. There was a mark of white, powdery residue smeared on his skin. “After deducing that this wasn’t a suicide I immediately noticed the foreign substance on his arm. It appeared to be some kind of dirt or soil.” 

You held up a finger. “Hold on. You’re telling me that dirt doesn’t matter right after you find some on a body?” 

Sherlock gave a sigh of annoyance. “I said that it can be of use to me _sometimes._ Now hush!” Sherlock dropped the poker and walked over to you. He casually stepped onto the chair you were sitting in and walked across your lap to grab his phone. 

”Can you stop?” 

He climbed over your lap again, texting someone before going back to the wall. He looked at you, confused. “Stop what?” 

”Amazing,” John said. 

”Nothing,” you said. 

Sherlock huffed. “Stop wasting your breath on things that don’t matter.” He continued to fiddle with his phone. 

”Who are you are you talking to?” you asked. 

”Gerald,” he said distractedly, meaning Greg Lestrade. “I want them to hold Larry until we get there. I don’t trust anyone else to talk to him. They would obviously muck it up.” he sighed. “I just want to know what is on the man’s arm first.” 

”Have you thought about going to a geologist?” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Of _course_ I did. Unfortunately, the best one was shot this morning. I’m having someone come in from Germany.” 

”Germany?” John asked, surprised. “Can’t you just do it yourself?” 

Sherlock paused for a moment. “I can, but not as well, I am loathed to admit. Besides, I wouldn’t do it anyway because I don’t care about dirt.” 

”You’re flying someone in from Germany because you don’t _feel like_ analyzing evidence that you could handle yourself?” John asked, stupefied. 

Sherlock put his phone in his pocket. “Do you not understand English?” 

”I understand English. I just don’t understand _you._ ” 

”And you never will.” Sherlock gave him a cheeky grin. He settled down in front of you, sitting on his heels. He took one of your hands and brought it close to his face, turning it every which way as he inspected it. “You need to stop biting your nails. It makes your hands incredibly ugly.” He gently kissed the back of your hand and let go. 

”I’ll remember that. Thank you,” you said dryly. 

”You’re welcome,” Sherlock said, completely misunderstanding your sarcasm. 

Just then, your phone began to ring. Picking it up, you saw that it was the university’s administration. “Well that’s odd,” you said. 

”What?” Sherlock had turned around. 

”The school administration is calling me. I don’t think that’s ever happened before.” 

Sherlock snorted. “Boring. Ignore it.” 

”In my job. I can’t just ignore something if it’s boring.” 

”Then get another job.” 

You picked up your phone. “Hello?” You absently mindedly played with Sherlock’s hair. 

It was the dean. After double checking who you were, he asked, “Do you have time to come in today? We have some issues that we need to discuss.” 

You were confused. “May I ask what this is regarding?” Your concern must have shown in your voice because both John and Sherlock perked up. Sherlock turned his head and placed his hand on your knee. 

”We’ll talk about it once you get here.” 

When the conversation ended, you slowly put down the phone. You didn’t like the tone of his voice. 

”What was that?” Sherlock asked immediately. 

”Nothing,” you immediately dismissed. “I’m just going in to talk to the dean of the school.” 

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. He placed two fingers on your wrist. “Your rapid heartbeat beat, dry mouth, and shaking hands say otherwise.” he stood up. “Let’s go.” 

”No, it’s truly nothing. I’m just overreacting, and you don’t need to come. You have a suspect to interview.” 

Sherlock was already putting on his coat. “Yes, but I love you. So hurry up before I change my mind.” With his scarf secure, he opened the door and left the flat without a second glance. 

John looked at you. “How can he be so caring and such a dick at the same time?” 

”Sister, you don’t know the half of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! I am a hardcore sheriarty shipper and I only just realized I could write a fic about them, so my attention has been on that for a little bit. But I will never abandon a story.
> 
> I just re-watched Sherlock for the fist time in years and forgot how good it was. Oh my lord.


End file.
